


Prep Work

by Domenika Marzione (domarzione)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Military, Military Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:34:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domarzione/pseuds/Domenika%20Marzione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Major Lorne was on an off-world team back on Earth for a few years and he seems to think this is a good idea,” LT says.</p><p>Manny raises an eyebrow meaningfully and Patchok shrugs because they both know what sort of shit can go wrong when field-grade officers get good ideas.</p><p>(The 'other' origin story for Lorne's off-world team.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prep Work

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Some Assembly Required](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188617) by [Domenika Marzione (domarzione)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/domarzione/pseuds/Domenika%20Marzione). 



> [Cast of Characters/the big OC list](http://archiveofourown.org/works/372765)

It starts with Gunny sticking his head into the classroom where they’re spending the morning learning how to navigate by the stars on unfamiliar planets when there are no known constellations. (Answer: dumb fucking luck until the sun rises.)

“Ortilla, LT wants to talk to you.”

Manny exchanges a look with Rourke, who shrugs. If anyone on their squad had done something, Manny would have known about it already. The key to a successful career as an NCO is to make sure that there are no surprises coming from below -- officers breathe randomness by default, but any NCO worth their sword knows exactly what his charges are and are not up to. And Manny’s aren’t up to anything. (Jones’s work on setting up the beer vats doesn’t count.) Which means he’s about to get ambushed.

“Now, Gunny?”

“You see Linda Lovelace here for a gang-bang?” Gunny asks with a frown. “Yes, now.”

Manny stands up and nearly trips over Reletti’s crutches, since he’s left them leaning against a chair instead of putting them on the floor like a normal person. This is not the first time this week that this has happened, nor is it the first time this week that he’s given Reletti a meaningful look of _WTF_ , nor is it the first time that Reletti has given him an answering look of genuine remorse. It will happen again. And again after that, because Reletti’s a space cadet. Manny stopped taking it personally before they left Earth.

The company offices are a suite of small rooms off of a common area; Captain Polito’s office is dark, but Manny can hear him through First Sergeant Backman’s open door. Manny takes a left, however, to where the platoon offices are located.

“Sit down,” Lieutenant Patchok tells him when he presents himself in the doorway.

The LT’s a good guy, aware that a platoon full of E-5s and E-6s doesn’t get treated like they’re PFCs straight out of boot unless they do something to deserve it. Which is why Manny braces for impact when he sees the LT smile brightly.

“You will be pleased and delighted to know that your adventures with Major Lorne and Doctor Safir the other week have earned you consequences you could not have anticipated,” LT says.

“Beyond Reletti getting stuck in the typing pool, sir?”

Reletti can’t do much of anything while he’s still reporting to sick call every morning to get his ankle futzed with, which would be bad enough. But the idiot confessed to being literate and able to type more than sixty words a minute, so instead of just chilling out or pumping iron while the rest of the platoon rucks around the city, he’s doing secretarial work in the company offices when he’s not playing ATA guinea pig for the scientists.

“Oh, that’ll end once he loses the crutches,” Patchok replies cheerfully. “This is gonna leave a mark.”

The bottom line is that Manny, along with Suarez and Reletti, has been assigned additional duties as Major Lorne’s off-world team. (“It’s a [TAD](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/TDY), sir?” “No T, not unless you guys fuck it up spectacularly.”)

It’s been run through the chain of command already and approved at all levels, which is all fine and dandy, but Manny’s not sure anyone’s actually put serious thought to how it’s all going to shake out in practice. Patchok seems to think that they’re just going to be pulled out of regular platoon activities on an irregular basis, but even he admits that the platoon doesn’t really have regular activities yet beyond the keep-busy work and adjusting-to-Pegasus training they’re doing now, so how well this will work long-term is a wild guess.

“Major Lorne was on an off-world team back on Earth for a few years and he seems to think this is a good idea,” LT says.

Manny raises an eyebrow meaningfully and Patchok shrugs because they both know what sort of shit can go wrong when field-grade officers get good ideas.

Patchok lets him go after assuring him that nobody will let this spiral into a real goatfuck if it’s not working out. Manny’s not so sure about that, but it won’t be the LT’s fault if it happens anyway.

Gunny’s in the common area waiting for him because there are some things that the officers just won’t understand or don’t need to hear. NCO business is what it is and Manny’s been on both sides of this conversation before.

“Does anyone else know that [Suarez is thinking of punching out](http://miss-porcupine.livejournal.com/191602.html)?” he asks as they walk slowly back toward the classroom. Chris hasn’t said anything to anyone, but Manny knows through the grapevine that Chris went to Captain Radner for something the other week and he also knows that it wasn’t about his paycheck. “This is gonna fuck that up.”

Suarez isn’t failing to adapt. Manny knows what marines failing to adapt look like from his own time as a platoon sergeant and this isn’t that. But Suarez is taking a long fucking time getting his feet under him and Manny’s not sure if it’s because Chris is waiting to see if they’ll send him home before fully committing or if this is simply what his new normal’s going to look like. Suarez isn’t fucking anything up here, far from it, but he was a much more proactive marine back on Earth.

“He’s staying here,” Gunny says. “This is the Marine Corps, not the princess and the fucking pea.”

Left unsaid is that it’s Manny’s job to make sure Suarez gets his shit together.

Everyone watches him as he returns to the classroom, except for Doctor Feldstrom, who is vainly trying to explain some astronomy concept to Gallitan. Nobody’s sure if Manny was in trouble (which is safe to mock) or if there was some kind of Red Cross message (which is not).

“Wanted to congratulate me on having the biggest dick in the battalion,” Manny announces as he sits down. Or tries to sit down, because Reletti’s crutches are now on the floor, but at an angle that means Manny can’t pull his chair out without sending them skittering across the floor into the legs of the empty chair next to Gustafsson, causing a racket. Manny ignores Reletti’s apology.

It’s another hour before they can go, during which their squad has collectively managed to solve three of the eight problems on the assignment. They have until the end of the week to get the other five and it may very well take them the entire week to get it because Doctor Feldstrom has a very flattering concept of marines’ math skills.

The news concerns Suarez and Reletti, but Manny’s got a whole squad to be present for, so he doesn’t say anything until they’re done for the day and he can talk to the two of them alone. It’ll be common knowledge by morning formation, though, private chat or not.

Suarez does his best to hide precisely why he isn’t excited about the idea, instead muttering darkly about Wraith scoopy beams, but Reletti is both intrigued and completely unsurprised.

“Heard a few whispers in the company offices,” he shrugs. “It could be cool.”

Manny reports as ordered to Major Lorne’s office at 1030 the following morning and there isn’t a single marine who doesn’t know where he’s going and why.

The Major repeats the same lines about experimenting and the other stuff Patchok said yesterday, right down to not forcing the issue if it’s not working out, and Manny nods dutifully. But then he goes off-script.

“The Air Force SG teams are mostly all-officer unit with the occasional civilian scientist,” the Major says. “And I’m pretty sure that’s what they expect us to do here. Expect _me_ to do, at least. But this isn’t the Milky Way and while I sincerely hope that our first adventure wasn’t a harbinger of what will come, I do expect us to be facing a greater chance of... unfriendly engagement than a typical SG team back home would. And without the resources of the entire SGC to back us up out here, it behooves me to prepare for that possibility.”

(It will take the better part of a year before Manny realizes that this is Major Lorne telling him that he doesn’t want an officer-heavy team because he doesn’t want to get the lieutenants killed. As he hears it, however, Manny assumes that this is Lorne telling him that he doesn’t want the lieutenants getting _him_ killed.)

“Even if I hadn’t met you three already,” the Major goes on, “I’d be looking for three like you. Sergeant Reletti’s got his skills from Force Recon in addition to having the ATA gene. Sergeant Suarez has piled up quite the collection of commendations as a [Designated Marksman](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Designated_Marksman). And you’ve been a platoon sergeant, which is the skill set that’s going to be needed most. I don’t think I could have come up with a better combination if I went through the battalion fire team by fire team.”

It’s fluffing, to be sure, but something about the Major’s tone makes Manny think that there has not, in fact, been a battalion-wide search for a better option.

“Doctor Safir has combat experience as an infantryman, plus a pretty good familiarity with the galaxy from being here from the start, so he’s our overqualified field medic,” Lorne continues. “And I get to be both bad idea generator and blame magnet, which I can assure you are absolutely mandatory elements of any SG team regardless of galaxy.”

Manny grins and Lorne grins back, then sobers.

“What I’m going to need from you right from the start, Staff Sergeant, is to get used to the idea that our team dynamic isn’t going to fit the nice, neat boxes of the battalion command structure,” he warns. “Within our little unit, I’m the team leader and you’re the team sergeant and our relationship has to work on _that_ level, even if -- _especially_ if -- ten minutes before the mission begins and ten minutes after the mission ends, I’m back to being the battalion XO and Doctor Safir is back to being the Deputy Chief Medical Officer.

“For better or for worse, it’s all going to be on you and how you handle it. Everyone else will take their cues from you.”

Manny’s been thinking on that. He wasn’t sure if Major Lorne was looking for a few marines to escort him and Doctor Safir around or if it would be more like what happened after the shit hit the fan with the Hadrapu and the officer/enlisted divide wasn’t quite the chasm it usually is. He suspected the latter, but came in with no expectations one way or the other.

But now that it is being made explicit, that presents a whole different set of difficulties. No matter what he and Suarez and Reletti did back home, here in Atlantis they are the bottom of the food chain and Major Lorne is the second biggest fish in the pond. And that second biggest fish is now asking Manny to treat him like he is a lieutenant, more or less. And the Major’s not wrong -- it’s going to be awkward. And it’s all going to be up to Manny to keep that awkwardness from getting out of hand.

“You guys are going to be put in situations that are nominally well above your pay grades,” Lorne continues. “You’re going to see things and hear things that the average marine -- the average _anyone_ \-- in Atlantis wouldn’t or shouldn’t be witness to. And then you’re going to go back to your unit and be expected to act like every other marine.”

Manny pushes forward in his seat. “Sir, we’re not--”

“I’m not worried about you guys being tattletales,” Lorne cuts him off with a dismissive wave. “I’m not _not_ worried about it, but I figure you guys’ll come up with an acceptable level of discretion and stick to reporting the stuff that makes your commanders look like idiots and not the sensitive bits.”

Major Lorne gives him a knowing look when Manny moves to protest.

“What I _am_ worried about is that I might be making it very hard for you guys on a day-to-day level,” Lorne says. “Most of the time, you’re going to be with your unit doing regular marine things, and then once in a while, you’re going to be very special fucking snowflakes and that’s not going to be nothing back in the barracks.”

It’s the truth and Manny doesn’t bother to pretend this sort of thing’s not going to matter. But while he appreciates that the Major’s worried about it, he doesn’t want him doing anything about it that might backfire.

“Reletti’s got the ATA gene, sir,” he says instead. “He’s a very special fucking snowflake on a regular basis.”

If he and the Major ever do establish the team leader-team sergeant rapport, then at that point, he’ll make a crack about Reletti’s snowflakiness having nothing to do with his alien DNA. But right now, the Major’s still the battalion XO and that’s a comment not meant for Higher’s ears.

“True enough,” Lorne concedes with a smile. “How’s he doing, by the way?”

Manny shrugs. “He’s supposed to be on the crutches for another two to three weeks, sir, but if they’re not gone by Monday morning, I’ll be surprised.”

They spend the rest of the meeting discussing what Lorne would like to get done before they ever venture out on an official mission. They discuss special equipment -- does Suarez want something other than a P90 (yes, but they all do and he’s still a remarkable shot, plus he’s easily distracted by the promise of new accessories for it), can Reletti use the PDA (his enforced idleness has meant that he’s had more time to play with it but zero chance to use it in real conditions), does Manny have any suggestions/requests for Doctor Safir’s kit bag (“are you making a joke, sir?”) -- and Charlie Company’s training schedule to figure out when and where and how they will train as a unit.

The meeting is ended by the unannounced arrival of Colonel Sheppard, who wanders in and congratulates Manny on his new assignment.

“It’ll be fun,” the Colonel says. “Pegasus is a fun place when nobody’s trying to kill you.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Manny replies warily, “isn’t someone always trying to kill us out here?”

The Colonel makes a dismissive noise. “Most of the time, it’s just a vague threat. The actual attempts are pretty far apart.”

Which is not what scuttlebutt in the barracks says, but Manny’s not about to argue with the battalion CO.

His platoon is on patrol in the city, so when he leaves Major Lorne’s office, it’s to return to where he left his squad, which in turn requires a radio check-in to figure out where the hell that is. When he finds them, he tells them that the meeting went fine and nothing serious is happening before Reletti’s off the gimp. He doesn’t tell Suarez that the Major offered to find him an alternate rifle; Suarez really is a fucking brilliant shot with the P90 and Manny doesn’t want to hear him fantasizing -- in pornographic detail -- about what else he could have.

When LT and Gunny find them, however, he does tell them that Reletti’s going to have to practice with the PDA’s life signs detector function. The two of them have a quick confab and Reletti is summoned from his secretarial duties and told to park his ass on a bench, pull out his toy, and start finding his platoonmates.

Of course, Reletti being Reletti, he instead finds Doctor McKay in a part of the city he’s not supposed to be going to alone (or at all, apparently, judging by what they can overhear from his radio argument with Colonel Sheppard).

“You better hope Doctor McKay doesn’t remember who you are,” Sanderson says to Reletti as they watch the CSO wave his arms and shout angrily into his earpiece. “If you guys are gonna be the Major’s [PSD](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Personal_Security_Detail#U.S._Marine_Corps).”

Nobody thinks McKay can tell anyone in uniform apart, so it’s an idle warning.

They don’t go out in the field as a team for real for almost a month; Reletti is indeed off his crutches by the weekend (and stops pretending that he’s not still in pain a week or two later), but what Manny will come to recognize as the regular craziness of life in Pegasus in general and Atlantis in specific keeps interfering with the Major’s plans to prepare them.

It doesn’t take long for Manny to realize and accept that there was no amount of planning that would have prepared them for what came next.

**Author's Note:**

> I spend a lot of time on [Tumblr](http://laporcupina.tumblr.com/) now, if you're into that sort of thing.


End file.
